On a shabby island street, a dozen rough-looking men huddled together. Their leader sat atop a wooden barrel, holding a strange, patterned fruit in his hands. He squinted at it, admiring its exotic design.
"You think this little thing is really worth two hundred million Beli? Or is the Donquixote family just crazy?"
"If it wasn't worth that much, they wouldn't pay it," another replied, unable to hide his envy as he stared at the fruit. "They say these are the legendary Devil Fruits. Eat one, and you gain strange powers—but you'll be cursed by the sea."
"Maybe," said the leader, Tamori, with a snort. "But what's the use of getting special powers if it can't make me two hundred million Beli? Unless I become a pirate… and you all know East Blue's crawling with that pirate hunter now. Even the big crews are dying under his hands."
He grinned, rubbing the fruit between his palms. "Two hundred million will make me a noble in one of the big cities. Why risk my neck at sea?"
"Yeah, boss, but… you won't leave us behind, right?"
Tamori chuckled, gripping the fruit tightly. "Of course not. I'll take you all with me out of this dump."
They were small-time crooks, living off scams and petty theft around the port. Luck had struck when they found this odd fruit washed ashore. The moment word spread, buyers appeared—one offering an unbelievable two hundred million. Tamori had almost eaten it himself before hearing the price.
"Should be about time," someone muttered nervously. "They'll be here any minute."
Despite Tamori's calm front, his own impatience was growing. Then, finally, the sound of footsteps echoed down the street.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A dozen men approached. At their head waddled a fat man with a beer belly, sucking on a baby's pacifier and wearing a ridiculous infant headpiece.
The gang blinked, stunned by the bizarre sight. Laughter twitched at their lips—until they noticed the ten black-suited men behind him, all armed with muskets and radiating menace.
"Tamori's group?" the man with the pacifier asked in a lazy tone.
Tamori swallowed his amusement, stood, and nodded. "Yeah, that's us. You're from the Donquixote family?"
The man—Senor Pink, one of Doflamingo's officers—gave a slight nod. "The goods?"
"Right here."
Tamori held up the Devil Fruit.
Pink took it, examining it closely. "Hm… definitely a Devil Fruit. Looks like a Paramecia type."
Even without a catalog, the three classes of fruits were easy to distinguish. Zoans were marked by beast-like swirls, Paramecias were the most diverse, and Logias were the rarest and most feared—untouchable without Haki.
After a brief look, Pink pocketed the fruit. Tamori rubbed his hands together, trying to keep his voice steady. "So… about the two hundred million…"
"Oh, it's right here," said Pink, glancing back and gesturing with one hand.
Tamori and his men perked up—until the suited men behind Pink raised their muskets in unison.
"What—?"
Gunfire erupted.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets tore through the air. Blood splattered the street. Tamori's gang fell one after another, collapsing in a heap of corpses.
Tamori himself took several shots, dropping to his knees. Blood dripped from his mouth as he glared up at Pink. "You… Donquixote bastards… don't even keep your word…"
Pacifier between his lips, Pink leveled a pistol at Tamori's head. "No need for honor with street trash. Who's going to know? People will think you took the money and ran off to live rich."
He squeezed the trigger.
Bang.
Tamori's eyes froze with hatred as he toppled backward.
You won't end well either…
Pink didn't care. He holstered the gun and turned. "Let's move."
His men slung their muskets and prepared to leave.
Then Pink stiffened. A chill ran up his spine. Danger.
A split second later, sharp whistling sounds cut through the air above them. Instinct screamed. Without hesitation, he dove forward, activating his Swim-Swim Fruit ability—his body slipping into the ground as if diving into water.
The attack struck.
He survived, but the black-suited guards behind him were not so lucky. They barely had time to look up before a storm of blades and fire tore through them.
Blood rained onto the cobblestones.
"Donquixote family… what a coincidence," a calm voice said.
Ron stood atop a nearby rooftop, elven staff in hand, surveying the carnage below.
The street was painted in red, bodies everywhere.
The pirates he had killed earlier that day—the ones planning to steal from Tamori's group—had mentioned this deal. He hadn't expected the Donquixote family to be the buyers themselves.
But thinking about it, it made sense.
The Donquixote family had been collecting Devil Fruits for years. News of one surfacing in East Blue would never escape their network. If not for him, this fruit would have quietly disappeared into their vault.
Now that he was here, however… things were about to get interesting.
______________________________
If you're enjoying this story and want to read more advanced chapters, you can support me on Patreon: patreon.com/PurgatorialPoet. Your support helps keep the translations coming faster.